


Love at first (almost) flight

by Echo_star



Series: 12 days of X-mas oneshots; Underground Edition [4]
Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, First Meeting, holiday au, veteran
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-02-14 17:37:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13012794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echo_star/pseuds/Echo_star
Summary: A Christmas holiday AuClarice is a flight attendant who’s having the worst day until she bumps into a handsome stranger; cue John Proudstar who’s flight was delayed due to the storm.A sort of date leads to these two learning some interesting facts about each other





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Have I mentioned that I came up with the crazy idea to do 12 oneshots, about 18 days before Christmas (leaving us 6 days before the first stories go live) 
> 
> Shout out to my fave anon for bringing the sass, and for being onboard to contribute to the mayhem :D

Christmas is the worst time of the year. Clarice cursed as someone bumps into her, causing her to stumble. The person rushes by like nothing had happened. “Hey! You know, a sorry might be nice” she calls, but her voice is lost in the snow falling fast around her. 

She rushes to reach the warmth of the departure terminal, case in tow. She’s had the worst luck today, first she was almost sideswiped driving here, then there was no parking and to top it off, she’s running late. She’s scheduled to check in an hour before the flights departure and she’s definitely thrown that timeline out the window. 

The inside of the terminal is warm, the smell of hot coffee and bad food lingered in the air. It was home. As a flight attendant, the airport was her home away from home. Every location has one and they all have the same feeling. 

Unfortunately Christmas is the season of family reunions and grumpy travellers rushing home. She skirts the crowd, heading straight toward the machines which were the first obstacle to reaching the lounge. 

She makes her way through, by now a pro, in record time. She bypasses the throngs of people. She’s almost there, she has her ID out ready to escape into the lounge, when she’s knocked into from the side. She rights herself, thinking she’s escaped another accident when someone crashes into her, a frontal collision. She can’t stop it and she’s down. 

She’s pissed, like can she really not catch a break? She just wants to get to goddamn work, fly safely and come home. She has a few choice words on the tip of her tongue, when she glances up into the softest pair of brown eyes she has ever seen. They are surrounded by a mane of black hair, that compels her to run her fingers through, she balls her hands into fists instead. He has a chiseled jaw and when she glances down she noticed his arms. Like seriously, did he live at the gym or something? They were huge. Realizing she’s been staring, she flushes. 

"Watch it.” She tries for scathing, but it comes out more breathy than intended. 

“Sorry." The guy apologises, from where he is kneeling in front of her. He reaches outs and picks her up from the floor to set her on her feet. 

Clarice freezes at the contact, such a simple touch but it sends her heart racing in her chest. 

She can’t help but look at him, caught in his eyes. It’s not until the sound of the airport brings her back to reality that she realises she’s seriously late, as in loosing her job late. 

Glancing around she doesn’t see her ID, until he hands it to her. When she takes it from his hand their fingers brush and at the contact electricity races through across her skin. Clarice gasps pulling her hand back as though burned and looking at it questioningly. He’s watching her, she realizes belatedly. She steps backward and murmurs her thanks before quickly rushing to the flight attendants lounge. She can feel his eyes on her the entire way there. 

She’s lucky or maybe really unlucky? Though late, her flights grounded due to the snow and an incoming weather cell. She not losing her job but she doesn’t have her full shift either. 

She does however receive the unlucky task of being the one to inform the, soon to be angry, hoard of travellers that there flight is delayed indefinitely. 

It’s bad. The kind of bad where tired children are screaming, not to mention the adults throwing tantrums. You would think they would be thankful that their safety is the top priority, they aren't. Withholding a sigh of exasperation she continues trying to calm an irate passenger who’s agitatedly waving his boarding pass in her face. 

"I’m sorry sir. We can’t possibly fly with the weather coming. Perhaps you can look into an alternate method of travel.” 

Clarice lets him continue, waits till he runs out of steam. Feeling exhausted she turns to the next passenger, ready to calm them. She freezes as their eyes connect. It’s him, the guy with the electric touch from this morning and he has a friend. She offers a tired smile as she repeats her speech. 

 “Sorry sir, this flight has been cancelled due to the localised storm cell. We can inform you when our flights are operational or we can help you find an alternate method with one of our partners.”   
   
"Lorna’s going to kill me man," his friend groans. "I’m going to try to get us another flight before they are sold out.” He turns, making his way through the crowd. 

The hot guy stands there, watching her. It’s kind of unnerving how she’s his sole focus.

“Look, I don’t want to be too forward but since your flights cancelled as well, once your done here, would you like to grab a coffee?” 

Clarice hesitates, she’s never been asked out seriously whilst on the job before. Sure, she’s had compliments with her bright green eyes, her unusual birth mark and magenta dyed hair. She’s also had the occasional drunk person declare their undying devotion to her. But not a sober (she thinks he’s sober, but you never know) man with eyes you can get lost in, ask her out. 

“Um Sure. As soon as I’m done here.” She smiles, doesn’t think about how out of character it is. Besides, it’s only a cup of coffee. 

He smiles sets the location before leaving her to the remaining customers who protest the delayed flight. 

 

* * *

 

  
As she clock out, she’s exhausted. There’s nothing great about being in an airport at Christmas. 

Making her way toward the agreed upon location, she tries not to get her hopes up. His friend seemed pretty intent on leaving, or he could have changed his mind. 

Her heart drops as she reached the coffee shop, she swiftly berates herself before double checking but there he is. Right at the back, in the corner. 

As she makes her way towards him, he glances up and smiles. And why does that affect her? She pushes her bag and jacket farther into the booth and sits.

"Hello again, unfortunately I don't know your name yet." He gently reminds her. 

"Oh yeah, sorry. I'm Clarice, Clarice Fong." 

"Clarice," he muses testing it on his tongue, "it's a beautiful name."   
'Only when you say it like that' she thinks, aloud she mumbles her thanks. 

"So do you make a habit out of this?" She asks, as the waitress leaves with her order.

"Of what exactly?" John inquires. 

"Asking out strangers" Clarice elaborates. 

"Ahh, that." The waitress comes around with a recyclable cup of coffee for the woman sitting across from him. She scampers off as soon as she places the cup on the table. 

"No, I don't," he states smiling at her. "I guess you're special." 

"In more ways than one" She chuckles self-deprecatingly. 

"I'll look forward to finding out all those ways then." Clarice's laughter makes her eyes twinkle and John knows that he will do everything in his power to make her laugh like that again. 

"Smooth, Casanova. Very smooth." She compliments sipping her coffee.

"I try." He shrugs. 

"So, where were you trying to go today John?" Clarice asks placing her cup down. 

"Never can turn off the flight attendant, huh?" 

"Not in the airport" She jokes. 

"I was going home with Marcos this year. He's forcing my hand because it's his daughter's, my goddaughter's, first Christmas." As he tells her this he opens his phone to show her a picture of his godchild. 

"She's so cute!" 

"Yeah, I keep telling Marcos that she's going to be a little heartbreaker when she grows up. He practically has an aneurism any time it's brought up." 

"Well, I don't have a heartbreakingly beautiful goddaughter but I have Zingo." She responds leaning forward and showing him a picture of her canine companion.

"She's beautiful, what breed is she?"

"A border collie." 

"So besides being a flight attendant what else should I know about you?" 

"Oh, this isn't my job," Clarice comments, surprise flashes across John's face. "It's just a hobby" She teases. He grins and drinks what's left in his cup. 

"What is your job? Wait can I guess?" Clarice asks, leaning forward. 

"Go ahead, you get three tries." John chuckles leaning back into the cushioned booth. 

"Three? Are you a genie?" He chuckles and raises his pointer finger.

"Male model?" She jokes. He shakes his head smiling adding his middle finger to the count. "Professional body builder?" 

"I'm a marine" John supplies, openly laughing at her guesses. She sobers up quickly at that, no longer high on laughter. 

"Thank you for your service." The seriousness in her voice sets him on edge. 

"You've experienced military loss." It's not a question and they both know it. 

She nods, silent for the first time during their sort of date. “My foster brother. He was eighteen and I was twelve when I was living with them. Damien was the best foster sibling I've ever had, he treated me like I was his blood." Clarice takes a deep breath before continuing. "I was the one who opened the door when the officers came." Her voice broke slightly as she spoke those words. 

John reaches across the table to lay his hand on hers. His thumb lightly strokes the back of her hand, gently pulling her from her painful memories. Clarice looks up at him and he can see the tears swimming in her breathtakingly green eyes.   
"Thank you for your sacrifice" He whispers gruffly.

At his whispered words the tears fall, she's not sobbing she learned to deal with Damien's death decades ago. But the tenderness of John's voice and the safety of his hand breaks through her walls enough to allow her to let a few tears fall.

John's other hand touches her chin and makes her look at him. His fingers gently wipe away her tears.   
"This got very serious very suddenly." He comments. Clarice laughs pulling away from his hands to wipe her cheeks with a napkin. 

"I know, right? Dead brother stories are a fourth date subject" She quips. John's laughter successfully pulls them both from their, respective, thoughts on their lost brothers. 

"Well, let's just cover all the subjects while we can." He proposes. 

"Alrighty. Since we've addressed our brothers in service and I know you didn't miss those not so subtle hints that I was a foster kid, it's your turn to over share." She summarizes. 

"I grew up on the Apache Reservation in Camp Verde. I have a little brother who's a piece of work. He can be a good kid, he just chooses not to be most of the time." 

"That's intriguing. I've never met a Native American veteran before." 

"Yeah, my father was a marine. He taught me that the country was ours before everything and because of that we must fight to protect it." 

"He sounds like a wise man, your father." 

"He was." John agrees. 

"Dammit." 

"It's alright. I remember him fondly." 

"What's the last serious relationship you were in and the reason it ended?" 

“That’s very forward,” he muses "Sonia Simonson, eight years ago, because I became a marine. You?"

"What can I say?” She smiles “Henry Wilson, three years ago, he took a job in California." 

"So you're probably not so secretly still in love with Californian Henry?" 

"No, actually. I was going to end it, then he told me that he was offered his dream job. He asked me to go with him but I said I wasn't prepared for that." 

"So you lied to him?" 

"It wasn't completely a lie. I just spared his feelings in the end." 

"That's admirable, I've done that before as well." 

"With Sonia?" 

"Yeah," he sighs, "I broke up with her. If I'd told her I had enlisted she would've waited. Ultimately waiting would have hurt her more so I told her I didn't love her anymore." 

"So you're the one who's hung up on their ex," Clarice surmises. 

"Not anymore." He responds staring at her intently. 

“John!" Someone calls breaking their second moment of the day. "I’ve been looking in all the coffee shops for you. I’ve secured us a hire car so we try to make it back before Christmas.” Johns friend is grinning, elated at his find. 

John looks at her, as he stands. Clarice stands as well.  
“Alright, I’ll meet you there Marcos.” 

His friend, Marcos nods at her before dashing from the coffee shop, clearly eager to get going. 

With realities intrusion, Clarice gives John a small smile before saying “Well, it was nice meeting you John. Maybe we will, not literally, run into each other sometime.” It’s an empty platitude, a small hope at best. 

John grins, picking up her coffee cup to hand to her. It’s still warm though she’s lost any taste for it. 

“I’m sure we will see each other again.” His thumb lightly brushes her hand before he is gone. She swears she can still feel the ghost of his touch as she watches him leave. 

Clarice sighs as she prepares to head home, braving the storm and the drivers unequipt to handle snow. 

She’s about to toss the paper cup in the bin when she sees something written on it.   
His name and number. 

Grinning, she clutches the paper cup as she makes her way to the car, hopeful that perhaps fate or a phone call will reunite them again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its finally here!!  
> Thank you so much to my favorite anon for helping me to create a truly awesome story :D

Sitting in the car with a goofy grin on her face, Clarice doesn’t see the storm clouds that loom ominously above the car or the snow which has formed a transparent layer of ice on her windshield. With the heat in her trusty sedan turned up high to keep the bite of cold away, she can’t stop smiling at the little coffee cup in her hands. The cup he had left his number on; for her. 

 

He seemed like a really nice guy. Having been kind when she’d ran into him, he'd been understanding when the flight had been indefinitely delayed and had been easy to talk to. Therefore, never being one to follow social rules, she shoots off a quick text before cranking the engine. 

 

**'Are you sure you're not a magician?'**

 

Her phone chimes and she grins at his fast response.

 

**'Nope. I do have a few tricks up my sleeve though.'**

 

She types a quick response eying the storm, knowing the drive home will likely be a nightmare. 

 

**'Does one of those tricks include asking the pretty waitress to put your digits on my cup?'**

 

Hitting send she silences the phone, not wanting to be distracted whilst dealing with chaotic roads. 

 

It’s a harrowing drive home. It’s only snow but the way everyone’s acting you would think it’s some type of catastrophic event. Some cars are so slow she’s pretty sure she could walk faster than them. In the snow. In her heels. 

 

Other drivers move so fast, cutting between lanes and tooting their horn if, heaven forbid, you move slower than a break neck pace. It’s a small miracle she makes it home in one piece. 

 

Turning her ringer on, she shoves it in her handbag. Looking out at the snow flurries, she decides not to bother with her luggage. That can be tomorrow’s job. 

 

Climbing gingerly from the car, she makes a break for the stairs, side stepping the numerous potholes and quickly forming mud puddles lining the walkway to her apartment complex. 

 

Jogging lightly up the stairs, she knocks on her neighbours apartment door. There’s footsteps inside and the light click of Zingos paws. 

 

“I’ll be there in a minute!” her friends voice calls out through the wooden door. 

 

Clarice impatiently shifts by the doorway, eager to see her canine companion.  As the door opens, she sees Sage holding Zingo's bed with said dog sitting by her feet.

 

“I thought you might be back. Given the storm, there's a 98.7% probability that flights will be cancelled.” 

 

 Clarice shrugs, well used to her neighbors knack for foretelling probabilities. 

“It’s just been one of those days." She responds. "If we had flown out, I probably would have been stuck serving a drunk, over festive mess. Like that guy who was so drunk he thought the pilot was a voice from above.” 

 

She shudders as she remembers consoling the weeping guy who thought he’d been visited by angels and had burst into tears. She’d been stuck consoling the guy. He’d been comforted alright, enough so for him to grab her ass. 

 

"I'm so glad that I wasn't put into any sort of similar situation today. I just get to sleep." 

 

"You know Zi's gonna wake you up if you sleep too long." 

 

"Yeah, I know." She sighs. 

"We still on for December 22?" 

 

"Of course. Don't forget to remind Duke." Sage replies instantly. 

 

"You invited Shatter, right?" Clarice asks smirking. Sage sighs knowing her friend will never not tease her about Jermaine. 

 

"Goodbye." Sage remarks rolling her eyes and starting to close the door. 

 

“Hey!" The purple haired woman exclaims pushing the door open again. Seriously, thank you so much for watching Zingo.” Clarice says, giving her friend a hug. 

 

“No problem” Sage replies, a small smile on her face as she looked down at Zingo. “She’s great company whilst I’m on the computer.” 

 

“You really should get a pet.” Clarice reaffirms grinning, the conversation one they’d had many times before. Each time she’s sure she’s that much closer to convincing the computer whiz. “Think of the benefits, Zingo could have a friend.”

 

“We’ll see.” Sage responds dubiously, glancing at Zingo again. “Enjoy your day off.” Sage calls through the closing doorway. 

 

“She’ll come around eventually.” Clarice murmurs glancing down at Zingo. 

 

With Zingos bed in one arm, food and toys in the other she trudges slowly upstairs with Zingo trailing behind her. After fishing her keys from her bag she stumbles into the apartment, dropping everything to rub at her sore arm. Turning to her canine companion she lets her fingers trail through the dogs luxuriously thick coat. 

 

“I know I always say this but seriously, one of these days we need to get you a sled or something.” 

 

Detouring to the kitchen to grab a warm coffee- courtesy of the alarm on the machine- she collapses onto the couch. Lazily she reaches across the sofa and pulls the throw blanket over herself, laying back and letting the stress of the day float away. She’s dozing, not quite asleep or awake when the gentle vibration from her phone rouses her. 

 

Checking her phone she has several missed texts, all from him. 

 

**'** **It does.'**

 

**‘Were you at least a little impressed before you unraveled the mystery?'**

 

**‘I don’t want to bother you but let me know when you get home safely- I know Georgia drivers are crazy when it snows.'**

 

Blearily reaching for her now lukewarm coffee, she takes a large gulp, the slight warmth and caffeine sending a jolt through her system. 

 

Rereading the messages, she snuggles back deeper into the couch to respond.

 

**'I'm perfectly fine. I've been combating Ga drivers since I was 18.'**

 

 **'So for 2 years?** ' 

 

His reply is immediate and makes Clarice grin. 

 

**'Is that your not so subtle way of asking how old I am?'**

 

**'Or I was complementing you on how young you look.'**

 

**'Well thanks for the complement but I am 28, so I've been driving legally for a decade.'**

 

**'Driving legally? Were you once driving illegally? Were you a street racer?'**

 

Clarice can’t help but laugh as she reads the message, thinking about how some of those stories aren’t quite text compatible. 

 

**'** **....maybe. Speaking of legal, it's illegal to txt and drive.'**

 

**'That's why Marcos is driving** **'**

 

**'LOL! Well don't let him drive the whole way, that's a hell of a drive.'**

 

**'I'm not! I'm a good friend. Yup, the drive is gonna be intense so we stopped to get snacks. We're planning to switch every two hours, to keep us both awake.'**

 

**'That's a pretty good plan. Enjoy your road trip snacks and gallons of sugar.'**

 

**'Oh, I will.'**

 

**'Drive carefully, cuz as you know GA drivers are crazy when it snows and you've got a long trip ahead of you.'**

 

**'It's nice to know you care** **'**

 

Clarice blushes furiously as she reads and re-reads John's message. And, for the life of her, she can't think of how to respond. Should she call him out on his flirting or his cockiness and overconfidence? Or should she flirt back? 

 

Hesitantly she types out her response. 

**'Dial it back a notch Casanova.'**

 

Waiting a few minutes for a reply, shrugging it off when there isn’t one, she heads to bed with Zingo following to her curl up in her favorite position on her bed by her feet.

 

As she closes her eyes she pictures his face; how it had been so gentle when she'd crashed into him and his easy smile when they had grabbed coffee. Making a small wish, she hopes they find a way to see each other again soon.

 

_____________________

 

Rolling over groaning, the shrill chirp getting louder Clarice blinks her eyes open as the very nice dream fades beyond her reach. Looking towards the window, the first light of the day glitters softly to brighten the darkness. Dark means sleep, and she’s by no means asleep now. 

 

Reaching for the offensive item she blearily swipes at her phone to see what is so important, and who will face her wrath for waking her up early on her day off. Eyes still cloudy with sleep, she checks the time, scowling as she realizes it’s way too early. Sage wouldn’t even be up yet and she’s an early riser. Reading the message Clarice winces as her eyes sting from the bright light.

 

**'Can I have a picture of you? Is that weird to ask?'**

 

How is that dialing it back a notch? Clarice wonders grumpily.

 

 **'You do know it's 5 am here, right?'** 

 

 **'I meant when you woke up.'**  

 

He responds instantly. 

 

 **'You woke me up.'**  

 

She points out more than a little miffed. 

 

**'You should put your phone on silent then.'**

 

He quips. Clarice can't help but smile at those words, her previously rising ire calming. EVERYONE she knows has told her that multiple times over the course of her adult years. 

 

**'** **....ANYWAYS, you asked for a photo. Why?'**

 

Sighing Clarice sits up slightly in bed, turning on her bedside lamp to illuminate the room. Is it weird that she wants to talk to him more than she wants to go back to sleep? 

 

 **'Yes, I did. You have yet to tell me if you think that's weird.** ' 

 

His reply swerves around her question, which makes her wonder why he is unwilling to answer.

 

**'I think it's a little out of the blue besides at 5:10 am any pic I theoretically send will look bad** **.'**

 

' **Are you fishing for a compliment?'**

 

His words glowing on her screen make Clarice grin and chuckle albeit sleepily. 

**'Lol! No, I am simply stating a fact.'**

 

**'I bet you don't look bad** **, but if you like you could theoretically send it later when you're fully awake and dressed for the day.'**

 

Smirking at his assumption, Clarice rolls over in bed and types out her response. 

**'What makes you think I'm getting dressed for the day?'**

 

**'Why wouldn't you?'**

 

 He asks nearly instantaneously. 

 

**'It's snowing. Flights are grounded, it's a lazy day. I get to wear pjs ALL day!'**

 

**'Don't forget to add, eat and nap excessively to that stellar list.'**

 

 **'Oh, I haven't forgotten them. Besides I'll have to nap excessively since someone woke me up at 5 on my day off.'** She remarks. 

 

**'Okay okay, I'll let you go back to sleep already.'**

 

**'Nuh-uh, you're not weaseling your way out of answering my question that easily.'**

 

**'Does that mean if I try harder I'll eventually be successful?'**

 

John's question makes her smile; if it wasn't 5:15 in the morning she would've laughed. 

 

**'Nope, now spill it!'**

 

**'** **Lorna wants to know what you look like. Marcos mentioned you when he called her and she has been relentless ever since.'**

 

**'You shouldn't let your friend bully you. Since you seem not to want a pic for anything unsavory, I'll think about it, now time for me to sleep** **'**

 

Having sent that and silencing her phone so it doesn't rudely awaken her again, Clarice rolls over and hugs her extra pillow to her chest. Snuggling into her warm comfortable bedding she's out instantly. 

____________

She is rudely awoken again at 11:30 am to Zingo head butting her limbs. 

 

“Okay. Okay, I'm awake!” She yelps as the sheepdog jumps on the bed and begins licking her exposed face. Kicking the covers off, Clarice walks to the kitchen her canine jumps off the bed and enthusiastically barks chasing after her. 

 

She quickly feeds her dog and starts the coffee machine. She's making avocado toast and an over easy egg for brunch when she gets an idea. 

 

Grinning, Clarice gives Zingo a pat and a kiss on her head before kneeling down beside her and taking a quick picture. Checking the photo over to make sure there’s nothing weird in the background and that she looks alright, true to her word she's still in pjs, she quickly sends it. 

 

**‘Here you go, strictly to appease Lorna.** **’**

 


	3. Whats-her-Name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johns Pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG it has been so long since this story got an update! 
> 
> Hope you like it :D

The first thing John sees when he awakes is a pair of big green eyes. He nearly rolls off the bed, his heart racing as his best friend laughs her ass off.

 

“Lorna what the hell!” He groaned in annoyance. John looks around the room to get his bearings and the iridescent glow of 5:40 residing on the clock face catches his eye.

 

“Come on that was priceless!” She barely gets out between peals of maniacal laughter. 

 

“What do you want Lorna?” He questions, watching as his best friend continues rolling around on the bed with little concern for his rude awakening.

 

“Aww come on. You know I wanna ask about whatshername.” 

 

“Seriously? You nearly gave me a coronary just to ask about Clarice?” John asks rhetorically pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.  

 

“Clarice” Lorna murmurs testing the name on her tongue. She turns back to him teasing. “You know that I’m just invested in your non-existent love life.” 

 

“Overly invested, you mean.” He grumbles half-heartedly. 

 

“Invested none the less.” She interjects as she pulls his pillow onto her lap and sits settling her elbows upon it looking like the epitome of an eager child. 

 

“Couldn’t you have waited? What’re you even doing up right now? You never used to wake before noon” John complains. 

 

“Aurora woke me up. Seriously, having a baby has killed my reputation as a ‘being of the night’. She rises early! Seriously, I hope she grow out of it. I can’t keep living like this.” She groans dramatically.

 

John remembers her gothic phase in high school when she was determined to become a ‘night dweller’. The fake piercings she littered her face with, the dark makeup that made her skin look even paler at night and, he could never forget, the knives. He’d been terrified of something happening to her when she was roaming the streets at night, so she’d bought the knives. She had looked completely unapproachable but that hadn’t tempered his worry, so he had stayed out with her.

 

“What a shame.” He drawls, “Besides, she’s not going to grow out of that until she’s a teenager. Or if she’s seriously moody, like you, she’ll start when she’s five.” 

 

“I hate you.” The green haired woman deadpans. 

 

“I love you too. Now, seriously why would you wake me up? You know we just got in.”  

“Yeah, I know...” she trails off guiltily, “but I _really_ wanna know everything about your coffee date.” 

 

“Can I _please_ just sleep longer and tell you about her when I’m not exhausted? Please?” He tries to appeal to her, perhaps she’s less stubborn then she used to be- having a baby supposedly softens people. 

 

“No. How about you tell me about your coffee date now and then I’ll let you sleep.” Lorna says in a tone that tells him that it is not a suggestion and immediately banishes any comparison to childlike excitement he thought she’d emulated. Dammit, same old Lorna then. “Well?” She demands clearly getting impatient. 

 

He grins, ready to draw this out to increase her ire. She did wake him up after all. Cheekily he begins. 

“Well I waited at the airport for Marcos to fly in-“ Her eyebrows furrow. 

 

“I already know that. Skip!” She interjects.  

 

He smirks slightly before continuing. “-we drove home-“

 

Her mouth turns down, obviously not amused. “Skip!”

 

He holds steady nonetheless. “-we had breakfast-”

 

“JOHN!” She seethes eyes narrowly dangerously.

 

“We went to-“ He says unabashedly, and she throws the pillow at him, glaring. He grins, placing the pillow behind his head, he knows he’s conceded defeat but so has she. “Fine.” He sighs relenting. 

 

* * *

 

 

If there was one thing John’s a stickler for; it’s being on time. It’s one of the things he appreciates the most about being in the Marine Corp. So here they were early and caught up in the airport hustle and bustle with the madness of Christmas, early was infinitely preferable to late and rushed though. John gripped the recyclable cardboard cup of hot coffee in his hands, fingers tingling as the cup warmed them whilst he people watched. 

 

Marcos was in line waiting to check his luggage, the suitcase full of presents for Aurora and Lorna. Lorna and he had met Marcos when they were in their senior year of high school. He’d moved to town with his aunt and had been quickly adopted into his and Lorna’s friendship. He was a good fit instantly and John was ever so thankful for another guy to talk to. Not that anything was wrong with Lorna; they’d been best friends since they met in preschool, but Marcos got things that he never thought Lorna could, like girls- women. Where they could stand back and admire someone from afar, anytime Lorna had caught on to him liking someone, she would take charge and march up to announce it to the person in question whilst John watched on mortified. It’s just a guy thing. Lorna meanwhile had more than liked Marcos and John had sat back amused as he watched their relationship play out. He had been happy for the both of them, but mainly her, a girl he considered to be closer with than a sibling.

 

Reeling in the memories of the good ol’ days, John shook his head and watched as people moved purposefully through the crowds. Business men immaculately dressed in three-piece suits and tourists hauling oversized suitcases obviously stuffed to the brim, dragging their hauls to the suitcase check-in. Families herding their children quickly, rushing to make sure they get to where they’re going on time. Lovers, strolling hand in hand, clutching each other tightly.

 

Ruefully he remembered his last date, it felt like years ago- but was actually only a few months ago. There weren’t many opportunities to date when not on leave.

 

He surreptitiously glances down rechecking his watch, he’s pleased they still have time but honestly, why can’t everyone manage with just a carry-on? 

 

His eyes flick over the line, noting Marcos was next in line. Dropping some coins beside his cup, he smiled at the waitress politely before making his way to where Marcos is standing. He teased Marcos, while his luggage is being checked in, about how Aurora will be spoilt come Christmas morning, negating to mention the toys which take up more room in his carry-on than his own possessions. In his defence though he’d only been back for a month and he didn’t feel the need to have to pack much knowing that he only had another month to go.

 

Together they make their way through security and John stood idly by when his bag was searched; he’s used to it. After they pass security and don their shoes and belts they decide to grab a late meal, something to pass the time before their flight departed. After a relaxing late lunch, they walk through the concourse to their gate before starting the tedious search for an abandoned pair of seats at an overcrowded gate where they could stretch and relax before the flight. John watched their bags first whilst Marcos goes to find overpriced entertainment and snacks for the flight. When he gets back, five minutes later with a bag of gummy bears in hand, John goes.

 

It happened when he was walking. Suddenly the crowd surged, and it felt busier, like everyone had arrived at once or everyone disembarked their respective planes at the same time. He went to squeeze between a pair of arguing adults and a business man, talking on his phone in the middle of crowd, when one of them steps back into him, it’s the business man- his mind supplied unhelpfully, and John, being polite, turned to apologise before walking straight into someone else. 

 

His reflexes and years in the service stop him from falling but he automatically bent down to help the person he had unintentionally knocked to the ground who was collecting her scattered belongings. As he opened his mouth to apologise, he glanced at her and was struck dumb. She was beautiful, her hair a vibrant purple and when she glances up at him, her eyes were wide and, perhaps, the most stunning shade of green he’d ever seen, framed by a purple mark that almost looks man made in its precision.

 

* * *

 

“Awwwwww!” Lorna interrupts his story to coo. “Did you swoon? Bet you fell to the floor in awe of her beauty.” She snickers.

 

“Lorna.” John groans glaring at her. He’s a manly man and manly men don’t swoon. Only in the quiet of his mind will he admit he was dazed- just a little, but he will never cop to that aloud and never to Lorna or within her vicinity. Besides it’s not like he can help it if her eyes remind him of the evergreen tree outside his childhood home. Makes him remember endless summers of climbing as far as he could and watching the world go by. He has a feeling he could become lost in her eyes. But swooning? Nope, not on the cards.

 

“Aww! I know you did, ‘cuz you got this whole doe eyed dreamy look on your face just telling me about her.” She says teasingly, though in actuality when he’d come to the part in his story and he’d described seeing Clarice for the first time he’d smiled lightly, and his eyes had softened. 

 

“No, I don’t.” He adamantly refuses and successfully suppresses the blush that wants to make his cheeks burn brightly. Even in the dark Lorna would be able to tell and she would _never_ let him live it down. 

 

“Fine, fine. I’m wrong. Carry on” she regally waves her hand, encouraging him to finish the story. He suppresses another groan, thankful, at least, for the fact that Lorna will more than likely never meet Clarice and continues.

 

* * *

 

“Watch it.” She huffed out, a little breathlessly- though that was probably just from him winding her, annoyance evident on her face.

 

“Sorry.” John murmured unable to look away. As he felt someone bump into him, he realized that they’re still on the floor in the middle of the airport. Reaching forward he pulled her to her feet, noting the softness of her skin and the jolt of electricity run up his arm at their touch. Then they’re watching each other, and he started to notice the little things about her; like the small point of her ears, making her look slightly elfin, and her eyes, wide and expressive until she looked down breaking eye contact. 

 

He looked over at her and watched curiously while she glanced around the floor. Belatedly he realized that he’s still holding her ID, so he extended it to her. She smiled lightly heaving a breath of relief and went to take it. John watched her closely and couldn’t help but wonder if she’d felt the spark as well. At her barely there touch another bolt of electricity ghosts over his palm where her fingers glided across his skin. He got the answer when she stared at her hand after she took her badge. He wanted to somehow keep her there, with him, and he opened his mouth to speak when she quietly mumbled her thanks and turned away, leaving him there to watch as she disappeared into the crowd. 

 

It could have been a minute, it could have been ten but when he could no longer spot her purple hair, he turned and made his way back to Marcos. When Marcos asked about his lack of a snack John made the excuse of the shops being too crowded, and lines going out the door, not ready to tell him about the woman with the electric touch. His excuse was an apt one, but Marcos didn’t seem to have heard him, too busy texting Lorna that they would be on their way soon, eager to be reunited with his family. Until the tell-tale chime of the airport intercom advised passengers to inquire with their respective gate agents about their flights as a large proportion of them have been cancelled due to the oncoming snow storm.

 

John watched as Marcos flew out of his seat rushing to get into the rapidly forming line and leaving him to carry their bags. He bypassed crying kids and people yelling angrily into their phones to stand next to Marcos. It took nearly twenty minutes until they’re near the front of the line and when he glanced from his phone to look up at the gate agent he froze; one of them was her. His heart soared and despite everything happening around them, he ardently hoped the flight was still scheduled to depart so that there was a chance he could speak to her on the plane. All too soon they are at the front of the line and he could see her fatigue, could hear it in her voice as she spoke with Marcos. Vaguely, as though he were somewhere in the distance and not right next to him, he heard Marcos say something about trying to find another flight before disappearing and he knew, although there were antsy and angry people in line behind him, that he couldn’t leave without at least learning her name. But when he opened his mouth to speak he surprised himself. 

 

“Look, I don’t want to be too forward but since your flights cancelled as well, once you’re done here, would you like to grab a coffee?” The words escaped his mouth without his conscious decision and now they were out there. God, waiting to find out if she would grab coffee with him was nerve wracking, and he wondered how it was possible for him to care so much about her answer. It was unlike him to sweat the small stuff. Then she smiled. 

 

“Umm, sure. As soon as I done here.” He’s stunned that she would agree to have coffee with someone she had barely met. Perhaps she does this often? The thought left a sour feeling churning inside his stomach. 

 

“Great! How about Amélie’s Café?” He asked, picking the first place he could think of, which was the little café he’d had coffee in earlier.

 

Smiling, he turned and walked away before texting Marcos to check in. All flights to New York were cancelled so Marcos was in line at the car rental service, where it seemed as though everyone whose flights had been cancelled were trying to secure a car as well. He made his way there, so he could give Marcos his carry-on back and tell him where he’d be while he waited in line. 

 

“Just look how long the line is,” Marcos groaned as soon as he saw him. “We’re going to miss Christmas.” 

 

“No, we won’t. Quit being melodramatic.” John grinned, “If you can’t get a car here, we can always go pick up my truck. It’s a few hours extra but there’s no way we will miss Christmas.” Marcos cheered up slightly. 

 

“True, fingers crossed we can get a car here though. I miss my baby girl and I don’t want any more delays in getting home.” 

 

“God Marcos you’re such a sap,” John ribbed god-naturedly. “Seriously though, you don’t need me to stand in line with you, right?” 

 

“Nah, I’m good. Where you heading off to though? Finally going to get a snack?” 

 

“No, I asked one of the flight attendants to get coffee with me.” 

 

“Which one?” Marks asked curiously. 

 

“The one who told us our flight was cancelled.” 

 

“Nice man, good for you. She’s pretty. I’ll come get you as soon as I know more here.” John agreed, thoughts already back to the woman with purple hair. 

 

He arrived at the Amélie’s and picked a table at the back, so they could have a modicum of privacy. Waiting was the worst, but it did allow him time to think. He’d already been forward when he’d asked her to coffee he didn’t want to seem aggressive by asking for her phone number when they were finished. It occurred to him that he should somehow leave her his number, a way to provide her with the option to contact him again, so that everything else could be on her terms. 

 

“You again? You must love coffee.” The waitress said when she came by. 

 

“Something like that.” He chuckled. 

 

“What can I getcha?” 

 

“May I have a black coffee. Also, I’m meeting someone here and I want to find a way to leave her my number. Could you put it on her cup for me?” he explained to the waitress and left her an extra tip. He distracted himself with thoughts of his goddaughter and the fast approaching holiday. It’s when he’s imagining his hometown looked like, that he felt someone watching him. 

 

Looking up, he let himself relax. It’s her, she actually came. Smiling, he waited for her to sit with him, glad he chose a table at the back when he saw a family enter not far behind her. She sat down and made herself comfortable across from him. He then realizes he still doesn’t know what the purple haired woman seated across from him name was.

 

"Hello again, unfortunately I don't know your name yet." He gently reminded her, his mind successfully skipping over the fact that he had never introduced himself either.  

 

"Oh yeah, sorry. I'm Clarice, Clarice Fong." 

 

"Clarice," he murmured, committing her name to his memory, "it's a beautiful name." Her cheeks reddened slightly as she thanked him.

 

"So, do you make a habit out of this?" She asked, as the waitress left with her order sending a small smile back his way. 

 

"Of what exactly?" John inquired, wondering what she could be thinking of, flying perhaps? He is very used to flying. 

 

"Asking out strangers" Clarice elaborated. 

 

"Ahh, that." The waitress came around with a recyclable cup of coffee and winked at him as she placed it in front of Clarice. "No, I don't," he stated smiling at her, "I guess you're just special." 

 

"In more ways than one" She chuckled self-deprecatingly. 

 

"I'll look forward to finding out all those ways then." Clarice's laughter made her eyes twinkle and John knew that he would do everything in his power to make her laugh like that again. 

 

"Smooth, Casanova. Very smooth." She complimented sipping her coffee. 

 

"I try." He shrugged, wondering if he could keep this Casanova thing going. 

 

"So, where were you trying to go today John?"

 

"Never can turn off the flight attendant, huh?" he asked, stealthily glancing at her cup, waiting to see if she would notice his surprise. 

 

"Not in the airport" She joked. 

 

"I was going home with Marcos this year. He's forcing my hand because it's his daughter's, my goddaughter's, first Christmas." He said as he took his phone out of his pocket and showed her a picture of Aurora, choosing the one where she’s grinning for the camera. 

 

"She's so cute!" Clarice gushed. 

 

"Yeah, I keep telling Marcos that she's going to be a little heartbreaker when she grows up. He practically has an aneurism any time it's brought up." He laughed. 

 

"Well, I don't have a heartbreakingly beautiful goddaughter, but I have Zingo." She said as she showed him a picture of a dog lazily reclining on a chair. 

 

"She's beautiful, what breed is she?" 

 

"A border collie." 

 

"So besides being a flight attendant what else should I know about you?" 

 

"Oh, this isn't my job," Clarice deadpanned. John looked at her surprised. "It's just a hobby" She teased. He grinned and gulped what was left in his cup. "What is your job? Wait can I guess?" she asked leaning forward. 

 

"Go ahead, you get three tries." John chuckled leaning back into the cushioned booth, wondering idly if she would be able to get it- not many people did. 

 

"Three? Are you a genie?" He laughed, raising a finger. One guess down. 

 

"Male model?" She joked. She thought he could be a male model? He suppressed a snort of amusement, shaking his head. Another guess down. "Professional body builder?" 

 

"I'm a marine" he offered, laughing at her thoughts on his profession. Though he had contemplated being a body builder at one point in his adolescent life. He watched as all sense of amusement drained from her face and she paled slightly. 

 

"Thank you for your service." The serious nature of her voice set him on edge. 

 

"You've experienced military loss." It’s said as a statement. He doesn’t need to ask, he knew the look when someone was remembering a lost loved one. He saw it in the mirror anytime his mind is stuck in the past.

 

She nodded, silent. “My foster brother. He was eighteen and I was twelve when I was living with them. Damien was the best foster sibling I've ever had, he treated me like I was his blood. I was the one who opened the door when the officers came." Her voice broke slightly, and he wanted to comfort her, to offer her a way to ground herself in this moment and not be dragged down by haunting memories and needy ghosts.

 

Reaching across the table, he laid his hand on hers and rubbed it reassuringly, aware of how much she had opened to him. She looked up at him and he could see the tears swimming in her breathtakingly green eyes. 

 

"Thank you for your sacrifice." He murmured, emotion choking his voice as the faces of those he’d lost to the Eastern wars flashed through his mind. She’s crying, and he hated that he’s reminded her of what she’s lost. He brought her chin up from where she’s looking down, taking in her face, still beautiful despite her sadness as he wiped away the tears that had fallen.

 

"This got very serious very suddenly." He proclaimed, wanting to lighten the moment. Clarice laughed pulling away from his hands as she blotted her cheeks with a napkin. 

 

"I know, right? Dead brother stories are a fourth date subject." She quipped and he’s glad she could joke. 

 

"Well, let's just cover all the subjects while we can." He proposed. 

 

"Alrighty. Since we've addressed our brothers in service and I know you didn't miss those not so subtle hints that I was a foster kid, it's your turn to over share."

Right, now he needed to bare himself as much as she had so she doesn’t feel like she’s overshared he started. 

 

"I grew up on the Apache Reservation in Camp Verde. I have a little brother who's a piece of work. He can be a good kid, he just chooses not to be most of the time." 

 

"That's intriguing. I've never met a Native American veteran before." 

 

"Yeah, my father was a marine. He taught me that the country was ours before everything and because of that we must fight to protect it." 

 

"He sounds like a wise man, your father." Clarice remarked. 

 

"He was." he agreed. 

 

"Dammit." She muttered under her breath. 

 

"It's alright. I remember him fondly." He told her with a small smile. 

 

"What's the last serious relationship you were in and the reason it ended?" She asked after a moment. 

 

“That’s very forward.” Do people discuss past relationships on their first meeting? He hadn’t thought so. "Sonia Simonson, eight years ago, because I became a marine. You?"

 

"What can I say?” She smiled. “Henry Wilson, three years ago, he took a job in California." 

 

"So, you're probably not so secretly still in love with Californian Henry?" ‘Please say no.’ He silently prayed. 

 

"No, actually. I was going to end it, then he told me that he was offered his dream job. He asked me to go with him, but I said I wasn't prepared for that." 

 

"So, you lied to him?" 

 

"It wasn't completely a lie.” Clarice refuted. “I just spared his feelings in the end." 

 

"That's admirable, I've done that before as well." 

 

"With Sonia?" 

 

"Yeah," he sighed, "I broke up with her. If I'd told her I had enlisted she would've waited. Ultimately waiting would have hurt her more so I told her I didn't love her anymore." He’d been on Lorna’s shit list for months because of that, it even got to the point where she briefly decided not to speak to him.

 

"So, you're the one who's hung up on their ex," Clarice surmised. Surprised he stared at her, that hadn’t been true for a while, but he need her to know that he wasn’t. He’d needed Sonia because she had always helped him cope.

 

"Not anymore." He said his voice deepening imperceptibly. 

 

“John!” ‘It was Marcos’, his stomach dropped at the realization. "I’ve been looking in all the coffee shops for you. I’ve secured us a hire car, so we try to make it back before Christmas.” John glanced at Marcos before looking back to Clarice and standing resigned. 

 

“Alright, I’ll meet you there Marcos.” 

Marcos nodded before moving quickly away, and John wondered if it was too forward to ask to see her again? Probably, besides not many people sign up for long distance relationships with active marines after one date. 

 

 “Well, it was nice meeting you John. Maybe we will, not literally, run into each other sometime.” John grinned, glad she seemed to want to spend more time with him before he picked up her coffee cup and purposely handed it to her. 

 

“I’m sure we will see each other again.” He stated as she took the to go cup from him and he brushed her hand, silently urging her to look at the cup. ‘What if she doesn’t see it?’ He smiled at her before walking away, hoping for a Christmas miracle.

 

By the time he reached the rental car Marcos already had his bag loaded, papers signed and keys in the ignition. Jumping into the passenger seat he grinned and couldn’t help but tease Marcos, despite his heavy heart.

 

“You sure you don’t want me to drive? You don’t exactly have the best track record- ”

 

“One time!” He shouted jumping in to defend himself and his actions. “That was one god darn time and it was a _tiny_ dent. Not even a scratch on it.” John grinned, relaxing as Marcos continued to grumble and grouse about old ladies with handbags, who apparently had no problem hitting him with said handbag, for having the gall to bump her precious Morty in a parking lot. Never mind the car was as ancient as they come, a true relic of a past long gone. The words that had come out of that innocent old lady’s mouth… He supressed the laughter, trying to cover it with a cough instead. Not that Marcos bought it, judging by the side eye being given to him.

 

The holiday music’s loud and the snow hadn’t started falling in abundance yet, but John could feel the sweet lull of unconsciousness calling when he heard the distinct chime of his phone. John grinned sleep suddenly gone in his exuberance; she had found his number.

 

'Are you sure you're not a magician?'

He looked out the window, grin affixed to his face, and watched the beginnings of flurries falling thankful for his Christmas miracle. 

 

* * *

 

 

Tired, from recapping the best part of his yesterday, and wanting desperately to go back to sleep, John looks up at Lorna only to find her watching him as though he were one of her favourite lovesick soap opera shows.

 

“So, there we go. It’s not like I will ever see her again- between my next deployment and the fact we only knew each other for like five minutes. Don’t get your hopes up.” He declares hoping to banish that wide eyed, dreamy look from her face. No matter how much he wants to see Clarice, he just can’t see the odds ever falling in his favour.

 

“But we could-“ She begins hopefully. 

 

“No!” He interjects quickly, before her imagination could run away with her, wincing at the slightly louder than necessary volume. No need to wake Aurora just to get Lorna off his back.

 

“But she could-“ She tries again. 

 

“Nope.” He says finishing the conversation. He does not need Lorna’s brand of help. Besides it is less likely to land him a date and more likely to scare Clarice away.

 

“Fine,” Lorna sighs looking put out. “I just want you to be as happy as I am. I’ve missed you.” He softens, can’t help feeling bad and not wanting Lorna to worry.  He opens his arms and Lorna dives into them and it’s like they were twelve years old again. He holds her, and he silently promises himself to come visit them more often. 

 

“I know you do and I’ve missed you too Lorna,” joking to lighten the mood John continues, “but go to bed. I’m exhausted.” He smiles to let her know he doesn’t mind when a voice interrupts.

 

“I agree. Come to bed Lorna before I get jealous.” Marcos is grinning from where he is leaning in the doorway, whilst looking adoringly at his wife of three years.

 

Lorna’s look of melancholy fades from her face as she turns to smirk at Marcos. “Like he could ever land someone as stunning as me.” 

 

“I dunno babe, his coffee date was beautiful, definitely prettier than him.” Marcos teases. Rolling her eyes, she presses a kiss to the top of Johns head before ruffling his hair and flouncing over to Marcos.

 

“It’s hard to believe he found a girl prettier than him.” He hears her whisper to her husband, before turning back to him. “Sweet dreams. Don’t let the fleas eat you and all that jazz.” she teases before leaving his room, shutting the door. 

 

“You need to work on that,” John calls out, “have to get it right for your daughter when she’s older.” The door opens a little bit but only wide enough for Lorna to stick her hand through and flip him off. Chuckling and glad she’s finally gone, he falls back on the bed, checking his phone in case he happened to miss a text. Nope nothing. Scrunching the pillow till it’s just right, he closes his eyes to sleep and that night dreams of flying above an evergreen forest. 


End file.
